French Braid
by Suikorin
Summary: Mikagami teaches Fuuko how to french braid.
1. French Braid

Title: French Braid

Characters: You guess

Rating: G

Warning: This fic has NOT been beta read, so prepare for some serious grammar and probably spelling pains.

Time: Indeterminate

AN: Just a random thing that came up in my head because I haven't written an one-shot in a long time.

Summary: Mikagami teaches Fuuko how to french braid.

--

"No."

"Come on, Mi-chan. You are the only person I know who knows how to do it."

"You are honestly telling me that you don't know how?" the man said dryly. "That is probably the first thing a girl learns. And besides, you're trying to catch Raiha off guard enough to touch it. And somehow, I doubt that's going to happen with your oaf monkey hands. And how the hell did you learn I know how to do it?"

"It was a lucky guess!" Fuuko skimmed over the question. "And this is a bet with real money! Come on, you'll help me get rich!"

The answer was flat. "No."

"Oh... Please please please please please!" The whining went on for what felt like hours.

"No! Go find Sakoshita about it."

"Her hair isn't long enough."

"Oh please, if you want, even Domon's Mohawk will work."

"I won't even ask how you can do that...ARG. I had it with you!" A pair of scissors got involved. "If you don't, I will cut them off!"

He never moved but only crossed his arms. "What will you practice on then?"

A feral grin. "Oh, I don't mean your beautiful, well cared for, shampoo commercial worthy hair, Mi-chan. I plan to aim lower, a LOT lower."

Sardonic smiles all around. "Keep up that act, and no man would ever want you."

A change of tactics was in order. Instead of the tough guy act, this time was helpless girl look with a well-placed threat. "Please Mi-chan. I beg you! If not, I'll tell the whole school that we're involved!"

"Good. Do that! At least that will get all those girls off my back."

Fuuko was getting so mad that she decided to how him the details of her fist. "I sick of having to act nice to you, you heartless bastard!"

Mi-chan, who made no exception for Fuuko regardless of her x chromosome, dodged instead of letting her pound on him like he usually does.

After about an hour of grappling, destruction of nearby telephone pole, concrete and scaring the bystanders at the park where they were having the arguement, both were exhausted.

"Do you yield, you hardass!?" huffed the girl. "Because I know that you know that your stamina is not as good as mine and I can go all day!"

This was getting no where. And he could not move away in the next day. "Fine! But only if I get half of the bet prize."

"Agreed!"

--

It was unbelievably soft. It felt like angel down, with a thickness to show the strength of each strand. Fuuko suddenly wondered if hair can be used to make a blanket, or a pillow, or even a hanky for her nose.

"Don't even THINK about it that way," Mikagami growled. Why in the world did he ever agree to this in the first place?

"Ow! And don't pull!" They had been at this for two miserable hours already. He first started by showing her how to a perfect speedy braid in less than ten seconds. Afterwards, he gave the clumsy bimbo free reign to practice on his own hair. However, he was starting to regret it, because at this at this rate, he would be bald by the end of the session.

"Sorry Mi-chan." She did not sound very sincere. She continued to carefully rearranging the long tress, but she ultimately ended up reducing the mess of strand into something that resembled a rag. "But I have to ask, where in the world did you learn how to french braid? I mean, that is not exactly what I expected from a guy, unless you're gay...aren't you?"

"..." A vein popped.

"Hello. Earth to Mi-chan. Am I right? Are you gay?"

"..." Several vein popped.

"So you ARE gay?"

"No!" Mikagami finally exploded. "Whatever gave you that idea?" He sounded very insulted.

"Well, you never showed any other girls interest other than Yanagi, but she told me that you weren't interested in her in that way. So I guess that you try to look...the way you look to get other...guys with similar...preference...so I thought that...you learned to...french braid to..." Fuuko stopped herself. Instead of the usual wave of cold anger rolling off her sempai, it was a cold nothingness.

There was a long silence where neither spoke for some time.

"My sister taught me how to a long time ago," said Mikagami, breaking the silence.

"...What?"

There was a shrug, like he was too tired to argue. "She was going for a job interview and she wanted to look nice. So she decided to do something with her hair, like french braid. But she could never get it right by herself so I braided her hair for her."

"Wow. You have a sister?" observed Fuuko absently with a smile. So Mi-chan actually had mandatory human contact afterall.

"Had," Mikagami corrected emotionlessly.

Fuuko immediately caught the implication and regretted immediately for her comment. Trust her stupid mouth to drag out something so insensitively. Still, it was natural slip. Mikagami had been friends with them for a long time, but he almost never talked about the past or his family.

Not that Mikagami gave anyone the chance to pry. Mikagami actually rarely came to school. Fuuko would know, since she never missed school, and unlike Domon, Recca and Yanagi, Fuuko made it her business to check on Mi-chan everyday.

Feeling that their somber mood was getting very uncomfortable, Fuuko added, "So, what do I do again?"

Suppressing the urge to initiate another brawl or verbal spar with the brainless female for such a short memory, Mikagami decided to try another strategy so he could leave her odious presence as soon as possible. "Here, I'll show you again, but if..."

"Yeah yeah yeah. If I tell anyone about this, you'll kill me," said Fuuko, waving him off. Mi-chan threatened her on a regular basis anyways.

Within even looking at a mirror, Mikagami's hands reached back and this time, took hold of Fuuko's hands. "...if I don't show you with your own hands, you'll never get it."

Fuuko felt her face redden. In all their times together, the only flesh contact was derived from her fist against his face. She could barely hear his verbal instructions as he manipulated her fingers with his own daft ones. She only felt his hands on hers, and noted sadly of how gentle they were and yet still so cold. Even after they went through so much together, Mi-chan heart was still as unfeeling as a stone.

_Well, at least he told me a little bit about his sister..._

"Are you even listening, buso (1)!" Mikagami demanded.

Immediately Fuuko saw a haze of red. The only person to ever call her an ugly hag was Fujimaru from USB, and she made him pay dearly for such a comment. She was ready to give Mi-chan a good old throw down when she noted his hair.

Perfectly arranged, from the temples down to braid and the polite black tie at the end, it was better than what Fuuko had seen in the movies. She bet movie stars would kill to have his hair. The cornice effect from the french braid was just to die for!

"You're done. You've learned. Congratulations," Mikagami said dryly. He stood up and left without a word. He had enough of Kirisawa's fingers touching his head to last a life time.

--

"Wow, Fuuko, I didn't know you can pull it off."

"Yep, Domon, Recca, now pay up."

There was a general expression of pain as money was exchanged. It was enough cash to buy the newest Play Station.

"So what are you going to do with the evidence?" asked Recca, holding it up to the light. Come to think of it, Mikagami kind of made a better looking girl than Fuuko. He snickered at the thought.

"Yeah," Domon agreed. "looks too good to let it go to waste. May you should sell it to an ad agency."

Fuuko grinned evilly. She still had one more thing she wanted to do with the picture. It would be highly entertaining and would extract a well deserved revenge.

Even if it may mean her death.

--

_The next day..._

A crowd of students were gathering around on the school bulletin board, each pointing at the new poster on the wall.

Mikagami, with off handed curiosity, decided to go take a look.

There, in a twenty-four inch by thirty-six inch poster board was himself, looking all too innocent and not to mention sexually questionable with the french braid. Scrawled on the bottom was. _"And this is what you get for calling me a hag!"_

Mikagami only stood there for two whole minutes without moving, enough that passersby became concerned. At the end of those two minutes, he mentally swore a vow so vehemently something that even the penguins in Antarctica felt chilled.

"_Kirisawa...prepare to die!"_

Fin

(1) Buso, probably the meaniest way to call a woman ugly.


	2. Coffee

Title: French Braid, part II (Coffee)

Characters: You guess

Rating: T

Warning: This fic has NOT been beta read, so prepare for some serious grammar and probably spelling pains. Also, extreme out of characterness.

Time: Indeterminate

AN: This one turn out too serious compared to the last one. Another warning: this story is inspired by my religious viewing and reading of Fight Club so it might be a little unconventional, slightly grainy and definitely not sweet at all.

Summary: So Fuuko finally learned how to french braid...but not without consequences.

--

It was moments before the alarm and a pleasant dream gently cradle the Wind Child in its caressing embrace. It was such a good dream too. Fuuko was dreaming about church bells, floating white dresses, all her friends cheering her on, and her cute wind pet hopping along behind her.

_"Oh Fuuko-chan, I'm so happy for you!" gushed Yanagi._

_"Awww...my childhood friend has finally hitched!" congratulated Recca._

_"Best of luck to you, Fuuko-nechan," chorused Koganei and Ganko._

_"Oh! My baby has gone and grown up all without me. Boo hoo!" said a tearful Mrs. Kirisawa._

_"Fuuko. Be a good wife to your husband," said the stern Mr. Kirisawa. "And good hair."_

_She raised a hand to touch her hair highlight with gold, now beautifully french braided with pearl inserts. This was her day for which she alone shall glow for the world to admire with deep green envy. Never mind the minor details of marriage or the groom. A husband was only good for donating sperm, gold digging, the expensive diamond ring and licking her boots clean. _

_Afterall, Fuuko firmly believed in woman power. A man could only drag her indepedent spirit down._

_However, ominous clouds brew overhead, and someone tapped her shoulders._

_Fuuko whirled around only to see someone she would only expect at a cemetary. "Mi-chan? What are you doing here?"_

_Fuuko could never understand the perpetually somber Mikagami. And why was he in a Grim Reaper get-up? With ragged black robes, scary looking scythe and a breath-taking smile that looked rather disturbing to her._

_"I. Am. Going. To. Kill. You." Mi-chan declared warmly, clearly enunciating every single syllable._

_"Wait! You're just kidding, right? Mi-chan?" There goes one of Mi-chan many threats, but something about the way he said it sounded too sincere._

_Now smiling, Mi-chan raised an overly large scythe of death. He looked to be vastly enjoying himself. "No. For. Real. This. Time."_

_Fuuko looked around for some help, but the only other person she saw was Domon walking toward her in a tux, holding two rings with real iron balls and chains attached._

_The blade came down._

Fuuko woke up screaming for dear life.

--

Seven days.

It had been seven days since Fuuko pulled the poster stunt at school. eight days since she last saw Mikagami. Yesterday since Domon showed up as her groom. Six days of that terrible nightmare where Mikagami was the grime reaper hunting for her life with that ridiculous asylum worthy grin.

And the Mikagami that Fuuko knew does NOT grin.

Or Smile.

Or Laugh.

That train of thought brought her to what Mikagami does do to the letter.

Revenge.

Mikagami was a true believer of personal vendetta and eternal grudges. Think of that obsessive hunt for his sister's killer! Knowing that tidbit, Fuuko expected Mikagami to attempt some type of horrible payback. Like embarrassing her on the public announcement speakers, or post edited pictures of her on the internet or even a bloody smack down. A week days ago, she was prepared for anything he was capable of throwing at her. Death be damned! She finally got the last word with him and she was not about to say sorry for it!

Except...Mi-chan had not done a thing.

In fact, the school had been eerily bereft of his presence for almost a week. Most people just assumed that the academic star of their school decided to take one of his usual extended breaks. So the poster was left on the bulletin board, much to everyone's joy.

The lack of public property damage truly confounded the unique group of friends. Fuuko, Recca and Domon postulated that Mi-chan was simply too embarrassed to come to school, however unlikely that sounded. Another theory was that he was too mad to come to school, a more likely possibility. Mi-chan was probably busy plotting how he would rack, skin, flay, scalp and generally torture his pesky and now **former** friend name Fuuko Kirisawa.

So when Fuuko saw Mikagami at the near empty local coffee shop around midnight Sunday, her brilliant brain decided that she better gave him her usual hello, a friendly smack to the face, as her last word before he could extract his revenge.

Mikagami, who could sensed her a mile away side-stepped her just in time to avoid the painful greeting with her palm. Still Mikagami grabbed her wrist before Fuuko could dive headlong into a planter.

By the time Fuuko realized what had happened, Mikagami already went to the counter to order coffee.

"Mi-chan!" Fuuko called, miffed that he tricked her. She could not greet him properly if he doesn't stand still! "You did that on purpose!"

He looked back from the counter at her with his usual expressionless face. He dismiss her attempt to put a dent in his face. "You want coffee? I'm buying."

It took some time before Fuuko recovered from the unexpected offer. She rubbed her eyes, making sure that the pretty boy in front of her was still the unfriendly Mi-chan she came to know and love. "No. Thanks all the same."

"Too late. I have already bought two Grande Latte Mocha." Mikagami paid the barrister in exchange for two capped cups of rich smelling coffee. He immediately went to the seasoning station and started to add vanilla and spices. With his back against her, he kept on the conversation. "How have you been Kirisawa?

Fuuko went up to Mi-chan and put a hand on his forehead. "That's strange...you're not feverish."

Having his personal space violated, Mikagami shrank away and scowled. "Thank you for your concern, but I'm not sick." Mikagami paced a cup of coffee in the girl's hand. "I'm feeling quite alright."

Fuuko took a step back. **Now** Mikagami's reaction was far too **mild** for her comfort. Where was the arrogance? The irritation? The anger? She took a sip of her coffee as a nervous gesture. To her surprise, the Grande-whatever drink had the best aroma and taste she ever had in a coffee.

Leaving her to a coffee stupor, Mi-chan picked up a set of newspaper from the reader's stand and proceeded to a secluded booth to read.

Fuuko, who could not resist the urge to pester him, followed him to the booth.

Both for quiet for some time. Mikagami skimming through the pages of the newspaper, pretending the Fuuko was not there. Fuuko continued to sipped her awesome drink, watching Mi-chan intently with her green eyes, trying to figure out the man's secret. He was acting awfully strange. She was determined to find out what alien had taken over the mind of her usually grouchy Mi-chan.

"So, are you mad about the poster?" asked Fuuko at point blank once she half finished her drink.

He folded the paper back to their original shape and looked at her with those icy blue eyes. "Of course not..."

"That's a relief..."

"I'm pissed as hell," he corrected evenly.

Fearless Fuuko looked at him incredulously then giggle as she imagined a volcano going off in his head. The various alarms in her head that screamed at the fact that Mi-chan does not curse, not even to his enemies, were summarily ignored.

Mikagami continued still in that even tone, apparently unperturbed by her reaction. "Still, this not the first time something like this happened. Since middle school, some punks would inevitably attempt the same gag at least twice a year. I should had expected the same here."

"Oh." Maybe that was why he had not done a thing. "Did you make them regret it?" she asked playfully, knowing the answer.

"Yes."

"What did you do? Beat the shit outta them?" asked Fuuko, nursing the very last drops of the rich liquid.

"No. I raped them."

"Eh!" Fuuko choked and coughed as hot searing coffee went down the wrong pipe. Fuuko spent the next minute hackling. She nearly hacked out her lungs due to shock when Mi-chan got out of his seat and patted her back.

"Now now," Mikagami said soothingly. "That was just figuratively speaking. You really should lighten up and not take me so seriously."

Fuuko raised a brow. Mi-chan, joking? "Alright! Just who are you and what have you done to my Mi-chan! What happened to all your endearing nicknames? Your creative insults? Your insufferable attitude?"

Mi-chan gave her one of his usual sighs, like he had given up on her intelligence. "Rest assured, Kirisawa, I haven't changed. I will get you back for that stunt of yours. I just thought that you should enjoy your last week on earth before your ultimate, drawn out, and torturous end."

"Oh yeah? And how do you propose to do that?" Fuuko challenged. "You always give empty threats Mi-chan, you don't dare lay a mean finger on me." Fuuko gave a coy smile. For all of Mikagami's supposed cruelty and cutting words, he actually had a nice side. Plus, during the school yard brawls that she started and he never tried to hit her once. Heck, which guy in the world would ever allow a girl like her touch their hair? "Admit it Mi-chan. You have a soft spot me!"

Mikagami took a sip of his coffee. "Tell me, when was the last time you ate and slept?" He changed the topic around completely.

"Around noon and I just woke up." Fuuko was getting annoyed again. "So I keep weird hours on Sunday, you know that already. And What does THAT have to do with anything?"

Mikagami glanced over at the decorative wall clock. "Because _it_ should be in effect now."

"What the hell are you..." Fuuko's stomach growled angrily. She felt the strangest motions in the pits of her body and the need to visit a nearby bathroom. Realization sparkled in her eyes of shock and disbelief. "The drink! You...you...**poisoned** me?"

"No. It's something that should had been called Grande Latte Laxatives."

"What?" Fuuko exclaimed as she let out smelly flatulence.

Mikagami lazily propped his head with his left hand while resting his elbow on the table. Mikagami had to be the only person on the planet who could look smug while frowning. "You do know that caffeine in high doses can act as a laxative, right? A regular coffee have about 135 mg of caffeine. The one I got for both of us is _several _times more."

"But why aren't you...?"

"You chugged yours. I just took one sip. You're on an empty stomach. I just had dinner. Not to mention our weight difference which means that drugs will have a much more profound on you than on me." Mikagami was always the clever one. "Think of it this way, primate. You just took the stimulant equivalent of five shots of vodka within the last fifteen minutes. Except unlike Vodka, you won't regurgitate and feel better in thirty minutes. This will stay with you for much longer. It'll just come out the...other end. Oh, and you might not sleep for some time."

Mikagami turned to leave as the air around her became VERY embarassing. "Please have a blast living on a toilet."

--

Three days.

Three blissful days with one less irritant constantly raising his blood pressure. Mikagami congratulated himself of thinking up that mundane yet effective payback. For all his genius, thinking up the simple way to get back at the girl took hours. Mikagami was used to permanently maiming those who managed to piss him off; not letting them off with just a minor tummy ache.

Besides, he needed her alive for the next series of nasty things he had planned for her.

Doubtless Fuuko would probably do something drastic in return. If there was anyone she was most vindictive towards, it was towards him.

And for the life of him, he never truly understood why he allow the girl to goad him on in the first place. It was not like he had never seen her carry out her antics and his analytical mind could easily anticipate her next move.

However, Mikagami had not anticipated a flood of x-rated cutouts from the Boy X Boy magazine and rubbery instruments pouring out of his locker on a Wednesday afternoon when hundreds of students were passing for class and lunch break.

"I knew it! He prefers other boys!" wailed the Mikagami Fan Club collectively. "This confirms it!"

"Yes! I have a chance!" cheered a squeaky voice belonging to the geeky president of the chess club.

"What a weirdo!" said other jealous but sane peers.

"Oh my!" Said the male principle, who had started nose bleeding, leered at Mikagami with wonder.

Mikagami just stared at the sea of erotic imagery at the foot of his locker, his expression as placid as a grazing sheep. Then, seeing something out of the ordinary in the pile of paper, he bent down to pick up something.

"Wow Tokiya-kun, I didn't know you swing that way. " came the geeky president of the chess club. The fearless nerd squatted down next of Mikagami, placed a hand on the ice man's shoulder, and leaned in close. "How about we get together tonight and do...OW! Not the ear!"

Mikagami pinched the man's ear so hard, it turn white. "How about you go do some thing of your own specie, like a dog," Mikagami whispered to the pinched ear before throwing the owner of the ear a good distance away.

The display effectively quelled the scandalous whispers and outright. Mikagami was notorious for his unforgiving nature. So much so that even the school bully avoided him like the plague. Only Recca, Domon, and Fuuko dared get that physically close to him.

Oddly, the fan club squealed with joy. It looked like **they** have a chance now.

"Now...Mikagami..." began the principle in an effort to placate the brewing tsunami. "You should not have done that. I will have to report this to the disciplinary committee."

Mikagami gave the principle a death glare. He grabbed the principle by the collar and dragged the man close. Mikagami stared down at the man, being nearly a head taller. "Then report it, spineless worm. I'll just have to inform your wife, Sako, that you're cheating on her with another man."

Another fact about Mikagami, he remembered everything he overhear. It was surprising how much dirt he had on people he did not care for.

The principle whimpered. "I'll get the custodian to clean this up."

Mikagami let the man go and took a few deep breaths. He rarely let his temper go because bad temper can mean making stupid error, like threatening the school principle.

It was strange. He had never been so calm nor so enraged since he came to knew Recca and his motley crew of primates. They were like an infectious tumor on his good sense.

Shaking his head at his own silliness, he smoothed out the sheet of paper that he picked up earlier. The paper was made out of pink construction paper, cut into the shape of a thorwing dagger. There was a message on it scrawled in a very familiar handwriting of a female chimpanzee. There were only three words.

_"This is WAR!"_


	3. Yatta!

Title: French Braid, part III (Yatta!)

Characters: You guess

Rating: G

Warning: This fic has NOT been beta read, so prepare for some serious grammar and probably spelling pains.

Time: Indeterminate

AN: I'm crazy for wanting to write this. Oh, in order to understand this, please look up "Yatta" under Google. But do that afterwards. Then you'll understand. Oh, viewer's discretion is advised for those under 10. In fact, you'll probably want the song on once the singing started.

Summary: So Fuuko finally learned how to french braid...but not without consequences.

--

"What have you done to my Goddess!" demanded Domon with an accusative finger as he charged into Class A of the junior class first thing in the morning.

All of Class A ceased their activities to stare. How did their ill-tempered and antisocial Tokiya-kun ever became associated with the losers of freshmen class was beyond them.

Mikagami gave Ishijima a displeased look. "Do I look like I'm her keeper?"

Another surprise. Tokiya-kun actually answered the ugly brute's question! Some girls shook their head while others looked at Tokiya with their mouths agape. First the freshmen class bitch Fuuko and now the freshmen class delinquent Domon? Certainly their Tokiya-kun had gone insane!

"She had not come to class so far this week! And my Fuuko-sama never misses school!"

"Unlike you, right?" Mikagami said, giving Domon the usual non-expression. For someone who supposed to worship the very ground Fuuko stands on, Domon certainly did a bad job of tracking the girl. Fuuko had been to school, and she already made that well known to Mikagami first thing in the morning with a well-placed smack in the head.

"Right!" Domon agreed a little too fast. "Hey! There was an insult in there!"

"No. It was merely an observation of facts," said Mikagami with a sigh. Come to think, he wished he could had skipped school and spend the day next to a tranquil lake or a secluded beach house. He was getting a little tired of finding embarrassing gifts that Fuuko leave behind in his locker. He only came because he had a couple of make-up exams and few scheduled.

"You're glad!" Domon accused. "You don't care if she was missing because she was sick or kidnapped or moved away or anything!"

Mikagami went back to reading his book on plant biology.

Domon was so mad that he destroyed the desk next to Mikagami to prove his point.

"You heartless bastard!"

Mikagami gave the freshman class "oni" a chilling smile. He had enough of this. "So, how much money did you loose to Kirisawa last weekend for that bet?"

"About 350,000 yen..." Domon stopped himself short before looked back to Mikagami, startled.

Mikagami looked quite calm and quite ready to kill him. "Oh...so you **were **in part of that stunt..." he whispered in a decidedly controlled way. It was all the confirmation that he needed.

"Wait! Mikagami! Recca was in on it too!"

"Oh...I already knew that," said Mikagami as he stood up and advanced on the overgrown freshman. "And you will regret it."

At that point, the whole entire school learned of exactly how girly and loud a man can scream.

--

Fuuko frowned.

It had been too quiet of a day.

Not a peep from Recca or Domon. Even Yanagi had isolated herself to study for the finals that were coming up. Mikagami was absent as usual so she guessed the raw fish in his locker would just had to stink until tomorrow.

Ms. Toriumi came in the class and began literature class like usual. The class groaned in boredom as usual. Fuuko's mind wandered as usual.

Fuuko thought of Recca and Yanagi and how many cute babies those two love birds would have in the future. She thought of Ganko's sickingly good video game skills and Koganei's love of hamburgers. Then she thought of Domon and chuckled at his love-term crush on her. Her mind jump through varied subjects, thinking about her mom, dad and brother and Ms. Toriumi's hard exams. Eventually, she stopped on the thought of Mikagami...

And how much she want his head under the three-inch heel steel toed boots that she did not own.

She would have to buy a pair...

"Ms. Kirisawa, are you paying attention?"

Fuuko blinked out of her thoughts. "What?"

"I have a note from the principle...it says that you'll have to be in front of the class for this."

"Huh?"

"Well, don't just sit there. Come and sit on the first seat."

Fuuko obeyed, and kicked out the freshmen class nerd from his chair. She wandered what their spineless worm of a principle wanted from her. She had not beaten up his kid this month...yet.

A certain music came down the hall way.

Fuuko tensed; she had heard this somewhere.

It was six guys. With no shirt, no shoes, not even pants, six guys wearing only their underwear with a plastic fig leaf pasted over their crotch, carrying boom boxes and nothing else marched into the class room.

Fuuko's jaw dropped.

Among the six were Recca and Domon, looking like they both had just swallowed a porcupine. The rest were middle aged men with flabby guts and rather unsavory chest hair. One of them was the school principle.

They placed the boom boxes all around the classroom, creating surround sound. Once they tested out the sound and the music started, they all filed to the front of the room.

"G!" began the one with rugs on his chest and back, his arms and legs rose to make a 'G'

"R!" sang the one with over endowed gut, his arms and legs raised to make an 'R'

"Double-E..." sang Recca and Domon weakly, they did not do any poses.

"N!" yelled the school nerd of the junior class, shoulders and arms bent trying to make a 'N'

"Leaves!" was the principle. He actually looked like he enjoyed himself as he showed off his fig leaf.

They all went through the same lyrics again, this time, the principle attempted to shake his middle at Fuuko.

Fuuko looked so green, St. Patrick would have been jealous.

"It's so easy! Happy-go-lucky!" The principle continued, his arms spread out, continuing to shuffle his hips.

"We are the world! We did it!" they sang alternating each word.

"Hyuu! Hyuu! Hyuu! Hyuu! Osu! Osu! Osu! Osu!" There were salutes, wind milling of arms in front of them, and poses with arms akimbo. each (except for Recca and Domon) looking proud as if they were honoring the national flag.

Fuuko became ultra ridgid. This was so NOT happening to her!

"Yatta! Yatta!" They all began to chant in unison.

The phrases echoed like some unpleasant feedback in a courtroom with the verdict of "Death! Death!"

"Daigaku gohgaku," the principle sang, sycronying with the Yatta chant.

"Shachoh shuunin"

The singing was loud enough to draw students from another class.

"Happa ichimai areba ii Ikite iru kara lucky da"

Half of the school was piled outside the classroom.

"Yatta! Yatta!" the chant went on and on as different singers interjected with their own roles.

"Tohsen kakujisu!"

The seniors came to have a look.

"Nihon daihyoh"

This time the school custodians and gate security guards came.

"Yannaru kurai kenkoh da" The guy with his very own fur held his arms like a cross, winking at Fuuko and showing his amazing amount of arm pit hair.

"Everybody say..yatta!" Everyone jumped in unison.

Fuuko could bearly blink as they continued.

"Nippon kyuu kyuu...demo" the junior class nerd squeezed in shoulders and squinted his eyes.

"Ashita wa wonderful" the rug man pointed a finger at Fuuko, smiling at her.

"Ijiwaru saretemo futon haireba" Domon looked ready to cry.

"Guu guu guu guu! Pass pass pass pass...Ohayo!" The principle gave Fuuko full view of his soda stained teeth.

Fuuko broke the pen she was holding.

"Yatta! Yatta!" they chanted, starting the chorus again.

"Kuujikan suimin" the junior class nerd touched his own nipples.

"Yatta! Yatta!"

"Neoki de jump" Recca looked like he was about to dig and hole and crawl into it to die.

"Donna ii koto aru daroh ikite ita kara lucky da!" the principle shook his posterior at Fuuko as part of the dance and farted...accidentally.

Fuuko would had killed him under normal circumstances, but he kept on singing.

"Yatta! Yatta!" It was the chrous again.

"kimi ga kawareba" the rug man touched himself sensually.

"Yatta! Yatta!" the class nerd shook his hips.

"Sekai mo kawaru"

"Marugoshi dakara saikoh da massugu tattara kimochii ii!" This time, it was Domon who shook his manhood at her.

Fuuko gripped the desk so hard, she broke off a piece.

"O-mizu nondara umee! Yatta!"

Beating the shit out of them sounded great right now.

"Hi ni atattara attakee! Yatta!"

Or just castrate them.

"Koshi kara warattara omoshiree! Yatta! Yatta!"

Crushing had had a better ring.

"Inu-katte mitara kawaii! Yatta!"

The song continued and with each line, Fuuko's face turning between punk green and sakura pink. It looked like she could not decide what to do with dancing man wearing fig leaves over their crotch. She glanced over to the window...

Mi-chan was there, giving his usual smug look with the frown that was all him.

Fuuko felt the hair on her neck stood up on ends and kept her eyes on him. _**MI-CHAN**_

"Yatta! Yatta!" Six guys sang in unison again.

The wind outsde the school picked up. _**I**_

"Iki wo sueru"

Weather station were warned of sudden possibility of a tornado. _**WILL**_

"Iki wo hakeru"

People in the streets began to look around in panic as random trash, dogs and cats were given impromptu flying lessons. _**GET**_

"Bye-Q!" They finished in a grand finale of their arms akimbo, one foot slightly on toes, looking proud...well, everyone other than Recca and Domon.

There was complete silence in the class. As if too shocked to say anything, Fuuko only sat there like a stone.

Then someone finally said a word.

"ENCORE!"

Fuuko snapped. _**YOU!**_

Afterwards, it was said that the insurance company lamaeted as the worse wind storm every recorded hit the town.

--

Author's End Note: If you still don't get what happened, please look up Yatta on Youtube. Just imagine those people dancing and singing in front of Fuuko. I had a laugh. It's nothing bad but maybe viewer's discretion advised...for children under 10.


	4. Denial

Title: French Braid, part IV (Denial)

Characters: You guess

Rating: G

Warning: This fic has NOT been beta read, so prepare for some serious grammar and probably spelling pains.

Time: Indeterminate

AN: Weird. This is short and episodic chapter, not funny at all. A little strange, but nothing too weird. Oh, I always wondered how in the world did Domon ever learned where Mikagami lived. Here is my explanation. Also, I know the translation for apartment is more like mansion in Japan, but I shall stick with apartment.

Summary: So Fuuko finally learned how to french braid, but her one prank afterwards set off a chain of events.

--

"Ah...Hahahaha!" There was a lot of pointing and laughing from the adorable blonde.

"Stop it! I'm serious!" said Fuuko with redden face, partially from embarrassment and partially from fury. She had just relayed the entire "Yatta!" episode to Yanagi. And instead of understanding that Fuuko expected, she was laughed at instead! "I'm going to get that jerk Mi-chan and kick him a thousand times in the groin!"

"You two act like my pre-school kids," observed Yanagi once she stopped laughing. "And knowing Mikagami-senpai, you probably deserved it."

"You're soooo unsympathetic!" Fuuko groused.

Yanagi smirked mysteriously. "You know, I saw quite a few cases exactly like yours at the pre-school though and it's because one of the tomboys likes someone"

"Come again?" Fuuko picked at her ears, not sure if she heard right.

Yanagi suppressed the urge to laugh at Fuuko's face again. "You see, when a normal girl likes someone, she is unashamed to admit it immediately. She will expresses it with confession letters, nagging, lecturing, and small helpful shy gestures. But a tomboy likes someone, she generally tries to beat him up but refusing to admit that she is fond of him. You do plenty of that with Mikagami-senpai."

Fuuko glared at Yanagi's implied companionship between Fuuko herself and Mi-chan. "That's a stupid logic. Do you how many guys I've beaten the shit out of before?" she countered blandly. "Including Domon! And Recca...though I never beaten Recca before but I came close!"

"Well...I guess that it does sound rather silly," Yanagi agreed after a minute. "But I still think that you actually like Mikagami-senpai."

"LIKE HIM!?" Fuuko exploded, completely outraged. "DON'T BE ABSURD!"

"Okay. I take it back. You like him a little more than that." Yanagi stated. Yanagi had noticed that Fuuko care a lot more for her friends than she was willing to admit.

"I WANT TO KILL THAT JACKASS!" Fuuko declared as if that would shut out Yanagi's voice.

"Fuu-chan," Yanagi address, looking at Fuuko straight in the eyes. "You're so obviously in denial."

Fuuko so frustrated by Yanagi's appalling idea that Fuuko stumped off to brood. So much for getting sympathy and support from her best girlfriend. She was on her own to plot Mi-chan's ultimate demise.

This came to Fuuko's present predicament. First of all, Fuuko knew that Mi-chan is a very intelligent enemy so regular tricks won't do. She needed to know the real Mi-chan better, learn his weaknesses and his strengths. She would need to find the one place Mi-chan disappears off to regularly.

Which was the reason why she was rummaging through the Faculty Office files one late afternoon, after all the teachers had gone home.

"Mimino, Suikichi..." It took only a little bit of time as very few people have surnames beginning with 'water.'

"Ah ha! Mikagami Tokiya!" Fuuko whispered triumphantly to herself as she opened up his file. Originally, she only wanted to look up Mikagami's address and put the file back. She should find out enough about Mi-chan soon enough, if she rummaged through his house, but the sense of thrill and discovery of blackmail material overrode whatever respect for privacy she initially had.

Besides, Mi-chan was a big puzzle in himself. Outside of his sister, his anti-social tendencies, near perfect grades and his fan club, Fuuko knew nothing else about him. Not even where he was born, his previous school, or his parent's names. Heck, she did not even know his birthday.

She would need to know everything in order to get him.

"Aha! He's a Scorpio!" Fuuko discovered. So Mi-chan was the steady type, that Fuuko can understand.

"Hum...Superior marks in everything since...grade school?" Fuuko said to herself disgustedly. The academic records were the first of Mi-chan's file. Apparently, Mi-chan consistently scored over ninety-five percent in everything. What was worse, the percentage bumped up to ninety-eight since middle school and even higher since he began high school.

Damn perfect Mi-chan. He had even spent a couple of years in the children's wards at some major hospital before he came here. No doubt 'volunteering' to help poor children with terminal illness to build his resume for school. Then there were three years around late grade and middle school for which there were no remarks. Fuuko bet that Mi-chan was too smart to consort with them mere mortals and just skipped grades so he could spend time in his manly cave away from the germs of socializing.

So disgusting...Mi-chan had to have some flaws or else Fuuko was going to accuse him of being an extra terrestrial on the school's public announcement system!

Then Fuuko saw the one flaw that utterly amazed her.

"Ahahahaha. Mi-chan **failed** dodge ball?" Fuuko laughed merrily to herself. Apparently, Mi-chan took dodge ball as his P.E. class since there were no additional offerings for advanced classes physical classes like kendo. No wonder he gets pummeled so easily, not with his deplorable dodge ball skills. "Now THIS is blackmail material!"

She wanted to read further, but she heard noises from the custodian just right outside the office. Fuuko stuffed the file labeled Mikagami Tokiya in her book bag and made herself scarce.

--

Fuuko snickered to herself like a mischievous spirit fox, kitsune.

It was perfect the way she planned it all out. Before, she had always resolved personal vendetta with punches and muscles because a victory would not be a victory if the loser did not go home sporting multiple bruises. There was something refreshing in a clean fight that required no subterfuge.

She would not make the same mistake with Mi-chan.

She had to get him for implanting the disturbing images of naked middle-aged man with flabby stomachs.

That was why now she carried a secret weapon in her backpack. She had taken good care to ensure that they were sleeping as peacefully as possible. As soon as she gets into Mi-chan's apartment though, there would be some fun to be had!

"We're both so dead," mourned Domon and Recca in unison as they followed along with her.

"Relax! We can still run away. Besides, don't you want to know where Mi-chan lives?"

"Know where, yes. Breaking and entering, no!" said Recca. "This is sooo stupid! What if he's home!"

"That's why I picked today!" said Fuuko. "You see, Mi-chan is a creature of habit. He's off in the mountains on weekends doing god know what right now."

"Why not a school day so we all can at least skip school before our inevitable death?" asked Recca.

"Because, you nimrod, Mi-chan skips school more than Domon," Fuuko said impatiently. "I don't know where he is during that time. Now come on. Mi-chan lives in some apartment about half an hour away from here."

Recca and Domon followed Fuuko with their shoulders slumped and eyes on the ground. Having gone through the "Yatta" affair for which neither boys were willing to give an explanation of _how_ Mikagami had forced them into such acts, both Domon and Recca were reluctant of doing anything to rile the upperclassman. Dealing with an _annoyed_ Mikagami who only want to beat them down was easy; that Recca had dealt with when he first met up with Mikagami. The result would be only be a few cuts, bruises, some quality time with Yanagi and living with a first-aid kit for a week; nothing permanent.

Dealing with a _pissed-off_ Mikagami was a completely different matter.

Recca already reserved three suitable gravesites at Kagero's old safe house.

Domon bought the three-for-one sale at the local crematory.

Apparently, Fuuko was the only one who thought that she would be coming out of this alive.

So down they trekked to the address that Fuuko looked up. Fuuko skipped every step of the way as she imagined Mi-chan's shocked face with her next revenge, each iteration more outrageous than the next. Recca and Domon dragged their feet like they were heading toward an execution.

Finally, after half a day of getting lost and riding the bus everywhere, they were at the Akodai Apartments as listed in Mikagami's file that Fuuko wisely kept it from her friends. The apartment complex looked old, with cracked paint, graffiti signs, cigarette butts all over the sidewalks, runny dew spots and rusts on the metal. Some of the characters coming in and out of the apartment looked none too friendly to put it nicely. The others looked like they worked for illegal businessmen like Mouri Kuran or for the "Penthouse" down the street.

All three stood at the front door for a while, not sure if they were imagine it right. Their prudish senpai living in the ghetto?

It may explain why Mikagami react so negatively toward everything.

"Let's go in!" Fuuko pressed on.

Since Mikagami's file did not list an apartment number for some reason, they were stuck with asking the people around about where in this hell ass large apartment their senpai lived in. So they picked one of the random people hanging around.

The first one they asked was a punk smoking at the door steps of the Akodai apartment's main entrance. He looked like he was going through withdrawal because he shook violently and eyes were completely bloodshot.

"Mi..mi...mi...ka...ka...gami?" one of the punks stuttered before his eyes bugged out, visibly wetting his pants and ran away.

"Okay..." Fuuko drawled. "That was not exactly what I expected."

They asked the sleepy security guard at the front entrance. When Mikagami's name was mentioned, he was immediately alert.

"What? Holy hell? He's here? Be right back!" The man hung a "will-return" sign on the door.

So the trio knocked on a random door and asked him about their elusive senpai.

"Mi...ka...ga...mi?" One of the older men who obviously looked like some type of gang boss with a nasty scar on his face and a gun brazenly strapped to his waist. "Don't know him! Never met him before! I'm going to pretend this conversation never happened!" He slammed the door on them.

"What? You have a death wish?" was the counter question when they asked someone who did not look like they were part of the yakuza. "No one, unless they're Tsukino, ever look for that man, and only on accident!" The man went silent then his eyes widened "Oh my God? You're here to see him? Are you saying he's actually in? On Sunday? Shit! Gotta hide!"

"Looks like he's quite popular," mumbled Domon.

"Looks more like they're terrified of him," said Fuuko. It somehow made sense, considering Mi-chan's less-than-award-winning personality.

"Can't imagine him being grouchier he is usually at school," said Recca.

The three were so involved in their own conversation that none of them noticed the shape bumped into Domon.

"Ouch!" cried the stranger who stumbled backwards then fell down. It was a young foxy lady in her early twenties. She was dressed in a way that accentuated all her womanly gifts. She rubbed her head and gave a sleepy stare. There was a strong smell of alcohol about her. "Watch were you're going you twerps!" She loosely shook a fist. "If I'm not so hung over I' would've call the cops!"

"Sorry miss," all three apologized, looking at her in amazement. The woman was quite beautiful, a mix of effortless elegance and seedy crassness. She had curly blonde hair and curious matching yellow eyes.

"You better be," said the woman. "Or I'll sic the evil Mika-chan on you!"

All three gasped. It was the break they were looking for. "Mika-chan. You mean Mikagami Tokiya, don't you?"

The woman hiccupped and furrowed her brows. "Hey...That's odd. You're not afraid of him!"

"Why? Should we be?" asked Fuuko.

"Well, anyone with a brain would," the woman yawned. "Never met a guy so vindictive and with such a 'bother-me-and-you-die' attitude. Did you know he almost castrated old boss Kuno downstairs with a butter knife?"

That was definitely Mikagami. "Can you tell us which apartment he's in?" Fuuko asked politely for once.

The woman flicked her hair. "He's on the top floor, in the unit next to mine. If you want, I can show you."

"Oh yes! We would like that. Thank you misses..."

"Tsukino," her hand dipped shamelessly into the front of her dress as she fished out three cards to them. It had the black inking of a woman in a bunny suit silhouette and the word Penthouse on the bottom. The other side was a phone and the name Tenshi Tsukino and two hearts on either side. "Just in case either of you wish to use our services." She winked at Recca and Domon.

Domon and Recca sweat dropped as they looked at the card. Mikagami, living next to a stripper?

For Fuuko, Tsukino gave a sympathetic eye. "We also have services just for ladies too. You look like you need it."

Fuuko narrowed her eyes, not liking the woman's tone.

Tsukino stumbled to the stairs. The woman was really chatty about nothing at all on their long and belabored trek up what seemed like a million flights of stairs. She asked them about their age, where they're from, which school they went to, and most importantly, why they were here to see the infamous Mikagami and how they became acquainted.

"Ah! I see!" Tsukino said once the trio explain themselves. "You must that band of circus animals he mentioned once, from school?"

"Circus animals?" Fuuko screeched.

Tsukino giggled to herself. "Yeah I can see it now. You," she points a finger at Domon. "are gorilla, but I see more of an Octopus with a Mohawk. And you! You must be the sea monkey, but I'm sure cockroach sounds better...and you!" This time it was Fuuko "are the monkey...and I think he's right on the mark, definitely with that face and those ungainly limbs."

"WHAT?" Fuuko roared. Fire was coming out of her open mouth, steam was visibly rising out of her head and face completely flushed. Mi-chan's insults, Fuuko was used to it. But Fuuko won't stand the indignity from this...this...hussy!

"Now you look more like a pig in heat," Tsukino laughed drunkenly.

"WHY YOU LITTLE #&!"

This was going get to messy.

--

Later that night, Mikagami returned to the steps of his apartment to see a Tsukino with a cigarette in one hand and a bottle on the other. She looking down-right haggard, as if she had gotten into one intense cat fight.

Mikagami, however, looked like he had been out and about in town. Hair bounded neatly by a black tie and suite not even ruffled at all.

"Your girlfriend has one hell of an upper cut, Mika-chan," Tsukino said as she took a swig of her drink and one long drag on her cigarette. Being who she was, she had immediately hid all evidence of mars on her skin with makeup. And since she lacked painkillers, alcohol had to do. "God. My face still smarts as badly as one of Sister Kelly's paddle sessions. I bet that Fuuko is the man in bed."

Mikagami ignored her comment and went inside. Tsukino follow him naturally, wanting to get a word of two out of the man. She chattered at him about her day, her clients, her problems in life, who she want to beat up and such. It was so much that Mikagami finally said something.

"Aren't you suppose to be entertaining someone right now?" he asked once they passed the fourth floor, scowling as usual.

"Yes. The client postponed it by a day so he can have it at his place." Tsukino took another drag of cigarette before tossing the butt vicariously to the side. She took another swig of her bottle "Anyways, back to the real topic. They came to look for you today, you know, Hanabishi, Ishijima and Kirisawa."

Mikagami went up the steps at a steady pace, not winded at all while Tsukino started on all fours. Ten flights of stairs were all she was comfortable with.

"Hey! Did you hear me? I said Hanabi--"

"I heard you clearly the first and second time around. What of it?"

Tsukino giggled as she scrambled to catch up. "What of it? Someone actually **willingly** came to find you. Most of us thought that the world is ending!"

"Get to the point." Mikagami's patience was seemingly short when came to his schoolmates.

"Our lone wolf Mikagami-sama has friends," cooed Tsukino with a knowing smile. "Worse, one of them is even a _**girlfriend**_." She yelled the last word to make sure the entire apartment heard her.

Mikagami stopped to glare at her. "Don't be mistaken. They're only acquaintances and Kirisawa is definitely NOT a girlfriend."

"Ah! So you are straight!" said Tsukino with a winning smirk. "And here I thought it was Hanabishi or Ishijima."

Mikagami grimaced. He walked right into that one. It was a running joke between him and Tsukino, about his preferences since he never brought anyone back. Sighing to himself for even participating in this inane conversation, he paced upwards once more. It had been too long of a day for him, and his head was killing him.

Tsukino was not deterred and followed him. "Anyhow, I doubt she is only an acquaintance. I mean, look at her tight ass and gorgeous bust! I can introduce her to our hostess. She can make a killing with that body."

The man paused in mid step, he shook almost as if suppressing unbound fury. Then he turned, facing Tsukino, as calm the summer sky. "Are you trying to make me hurl?"

"Ahh...you like her! You actually look out for her! You don't want her to demean herself, even if the pay is good."

"I'm having a mental image of a chimpanzee in ballerina tu tus trying to flash someone. Who wouldn't want to throw up?"

"Just admit it. You like her."

"No. I do not." was the stern answer.

Tsukino just laughed. "You're in denial."

Mikagami scoffed. "You're delirious."

Tsukino drank deeply, downing the last of her beer. "Anyways, she did have a key to your apartment. When are you going to do her?" She laughed at her dirty little question.

Instead of answering Tsukino's questions, Mikagami's eyes went wide. "That monkey went into my apartment?"

Tuskino hiccupped again. She threw her empty bottle down the stairs and heard it shatter. She flicked out another cigarette and lighter. "Yeah."

"Oh Damn!" Instead of the steady pacing, Mikagami ran up the stairs in a burst of speed that Tsukino never knew he had.

"Geez. Didn't know he was THAT athletic." Tsukino only saw the man moving meekly from place to place. Then again, she should not be surprised. That was a man who could dodge bullets and kick the ass of all those punks downstairs.

Moments later, there a door was slammed open and out came the most odious, blow people over, scent Mikagami had ever encountered in his life. Like the incident with the poster at school, he stood frozen, not even moving an inch as furry little black animals funneled out of the front door of his apartment.

"Skunks?" Mikagami managed to blurt out in a very gentle tone, his outward calmness belied the internal thuderclap and earthquake.

Back at the stairs, Tsukino paused at lighting her cigarette as she noticed the smoke from her every breath. Her eyes widen as she scrambled down the stairs and out of the apartment along with many other tenants of the same apartment all half screaming. "Holy Buddha! He's madder than hell this time!"

What followed was a curse so loud that everyone within the city heard the words as unexpected hail came down from the sky and pelted even the people, delinquents, innocent cute puppies and kittens that were unlucky enough to be outside.

--


	5. Dye

Title: French Braid, Part V (Dye)

Characters: You guess

Rating: T

Warning: This fic has NOT been beta read because this is a fun fic to write (and therefore not serious), so prepare for some serious grammar, syntax, mechanical, and probably spelling pains.

Time: Indeterminate

AN: Ahh...

Summary: So Fuuko finally learned how to french braid...but not without consequences.

--

Fuuko drooled as she dreamed her most pleasant dream ever.

_"Oh! Princess Fuuko! We love you!"_

_"Oh! Most beautiful woman in the world, how shall we grovel at your feet!?"_

_"Empress Fuuko! Let me have the honor to worship your shadow! The dirt you walk on!"_

_Fuuko tilted her head insufferably as she posed for a sea of adoring men in her fairy princess dress. The background a gorgeous field of yellow flowers. Everyone bowed down to her, praising her and compose poems to her magnificence. Many bent down to kiss her toes and openly extol the ground her shadow fell. It was a glorious self indulgent dream until..._

Fuuko turned in her bed, frowning as she heard the nasty name.

_"Move, wench. You're in my way."_

_Fuuko's adoring fans immediately screech in shock of such disrespectful address of their awe-inspiring queen._

_"Tokiya..." Fuuko found herself growling at him._

_The iceman himself crossed his arms. He looked fantastic as always, this time in a coal black suite trimmed with cobalt and silver. He cast an unconcerned glance at her. "So you do know my name."_

_"Of course I know your name," Fuuko smirked as she picked up the hems of her skirt and broke into a run "you're the Black and Blue Tokiya! You're the asshole who is going to get a beat down into hell!" Throwing all rational thought to the back burner, Fuuko tackled the irritating senpai.. _

_Tokiya seemed not to move until she was within an inch of him. Then he grabbed hold of Fuuko's wrist. Using her momentum, he flipped her down into the bed of flowers. Before she knew it, her Mi-chan had straddle her at the hips, his hands pinning down both of her wrists, immobilizing her._

_"How do you propose to beat me down if you can't move?" The man asked smugly._

_Fuuko struggled to move. To kick him off. Anything! Mi-chan was a fairy! He couldn't weight that much! But he was still bigger than she was and she was still pretty much stuck. Not to mention that any form of struggling required wiggling; such action was giving her unsanitary thoughts. She settled for glaring at him._

_She could not believe that he could be so nonchalant at their compromised position! _

_"So what!" Fuuko replied with fury and embarrassment. Not even Recca or Domon dared to try such tactics with her. There were limits between boys and girls that gentlemen like her two idiot classmate would never cross. "I can still complain and call you names until your head explode!"_

_"Not if I can cover that mouth of yours," he said._

_Fuuko sneered. "You'll have to let go of a hand to do that."_

_"Oh. I can think of something a lot easier."_

_Fuuko's eyes widen as Mi-chan suddenly lean closer, his curtain of silver hair fell about him She could feel her entire face turn beet red as she saw his luminous eyes up close. "Mi-chan! Wait! You're not going to..."_

_The tips of his hair brushed her face, sending shivers down her spin. _

_"No!! There are people watching!" Fuuko whined, terribly distressed at the situation and herself. She was not suppose to be caught like this! And why was she acting like a silly girl with her puppy love?_

_"So?" He said no carelessly._

_You're not my boyfriend! You never even give me chocolates or ask me out! And you're just going to..." She couldn't trust herself to say more._

_"Courtship is overrated."_

_Fuuko ransacked her brain for a way to stop him. Even a girl had like her had certain ideas for her first kiss. "I'm a monkey! I have foul breath! I have germs..."_

_"And I bet this will absolutely __**destroy**__ your mind." He grinned evilly. "That alone shall be reward enough."_

_Despite Fuuko's protest, she only froze as Mi-chan leaned even closer, their nose touched. Unwittingly, she squinted her eyes close as she felt a brush on her lips. Her heart pounded in anticipation and confusion. Her mind screamed about the fact that she hates him, that he have the grouch diseases, that he..._

_So why the hell was her body doing not fighting back!!_

_Then some loudly annoying alarm clock went off in the distance._

_--_

"Uhh..." Fuuko's eyes fluttered open only to see Domon's face looming over her and her lips just a hair width away from his.

"Oh my sleeping beauty Princess Fuuko, with this kiss, I shall wake you from your eternal sleep."

The girl immediately tighten her fist.

"Super Kirisawa FIST!" she yelled, launching Domon through the roof and into the sky.

Fuuko huffed as she turned off the alarm and hopped out of the bed in attack stance. Her mind was still waking up, trying to reconcile the dream and reality in her head. Was that a nightmare or fantasy? Was this still the dream or reality?

She touched both hands to her face only to feel unnatural heat and sweat. She shook her face in embarrassment as she recalled the images. It was just so shocking, Mi-chan? Kissing her?

Correction, he was about to kiss her.

She groaned and pulled at her hair in frustration of her stupid brain. How the HELL did her mind came up with that when she was so obviously determined to pummel that man to the ground?

"Why aren't I legal yet?" Fuuko moaned to herself. She desperately wanted something that would knock out her brain for being so ludicrous. Perhaps therapy would help. Or maybe one of those shock treatments up north where they dunk a person into an icy river.

"ARG!" Fuuko scratched her head furiously. "I need a nice cold shower and forget that dream had ever happened."

She did exactly that.

Only to find out that **someone** had placed chartreuse hair dye in her shampoo...

--

It was one of those heavenly afternoons at the park. The temperature was cool, warmed just enough by a southerly breeze to be comfortable for anyone. The birds sang in joy of their nests, the butterflies were in ecstasy over the blooming flowers. Everywhere were laughing children, happy families and couples in love.

Except for two certain arch enemies at a stone bench underneath a sakura tree.

"I. Hate. You." Fuuko declared to Mikagami when she found him seated at the park bench when they started this whole mini-war against each other.

Fuuko smacked her palms on Mikagami's picnic table and leaned into his face. Her severely short school girl skirt elicit several gasps from people behind her. Not to mention her horribly dyed banana yellow hair along with slightly yellow skin like a sign with a speaker blaring: "LOOK AT ME!"

Well, blaring to everyone except Mikagami.

"Did you hear me, Mi-chan? I. Hate. You!"

Mikagami placidly turned a page of his book. Like usual, he took to ignoring and insulting people like an obsessive compulsive disorder. "Let me guess, it's THAT time of the month again."

"No!" Fuuko's yellow face turned mottled orange from blushing and splotches of yellow dye on her skin. "No! My hair! You put yellow hair dye in my shampoo!"

Mikagami glanced away from the page and gave her a detail perusal. He did not flinch at her hair or the skin. Nothing ever really phased him since...well, since long as he could remember. He was never the overtly expressive child. Then came that incident with his beloved sister followed by his unfortunate acquaintance with the Hokage.

"I'm sorry. I was wrong-" he began politely.

"You better be sorry you-" she was about to retort with a prepared speech that would blow his mind away.

"-It'll be about two hours before you turn from a she-monkey into a bitch," he finished.

Having her grand speech ended before it began, she spluttered instead, "How dare you!? And how the hell would **you** know?"

He went back to reading his text as he casually replied, "Easily. Your mammary glands are droopy. Your dermal tissue is ashen even through the coloring. And you're bloated like a recently drowned corpse."

Fuuko plucked the book from his hands and attempted to bash him over the head for both ignoring her and cutting comments. "My boobs are not droopy!" Fuuko fumed. "And you snuck into my house, didn't you!?"

"Like you did break and enter my apartment?" he shot back, staring at his empty hands.

"That's not the point!" She was near screaming, distressed.

Mikagami only sighed and swing his legs over the picnic bench, ready to leave. Only fools interact with women during **that** time of the month. He won't be getting any reasoning into her no matter how hard he tried. That one time experiment with Tsukino's girls was more than convincing.

"Hey! I'm still talking to you!" Fuuko reminded him grumpily.

"But I'm not," Mi-chan rubbed his temples as he attempted to get away from her.

"Wait!" She called.

"Go away!" He said to her, pacing away with hands on his pockets. "I'm not feeling well enough to deal with you."

Fuuko stamped after him with a resolute, "No! I'm dragging you back so you can apologize to me in front of the whole school before I kick your ass until kingdom come!"

Mikagami turned around on a heel, giving the girl one of his famous 'I'm-about-to-kill-you' look.

"Then catch me first." Without any further warning, Mikagami broke into a run.

Fuuko stared at the empty space where Mikagami was earlier. Her mind more than a little confused at the occurrence. Mi-chan, running away? Did he really think he could escape from the wind goddess by sheer speed? Absurd!

Freshly riled up, Fuuko ran after him like a world class sprinter going for the Olympic Gold. There was no way he was going to get away from her.

She chased him for about ten minutes, yelling a million curses after him, commanding him to come back, stay and sit like a master would command a disobedient hound. She would not be satisfied unless Mi-chan confessed to the shampoo incident.

They must had ran around the park at least twice before Mikagami decided to change strategy. Of any woman, Fuuko had to be the most irritating, persistent, and blessed with ungodly stamina little girl he had the misfortune of knowing. Mikagami could just imagine Fuuko tackling him to the ground and embarrassing him in front of the entire world. So he dove into the trees in an attempt to lose the crazy girl.

Fuuko was getting madder and madder by the moment. Each time she was about to catch him, he would dart suddenly to the left or right. All she really wanted from him was an apology and a promise for him to do her homework for a week. Was that really too much to ask? After all, they were even on their little war, as long as she gets the first and last word.

Finally, he ran into a clearing and Fuuko did a little mental victory dance. In open space, she was queen. Not even that bastard Recca could catch her. So followed him into the clearing at full speed.

Before Fuuko gathered what was going on, she was in middle of a four lane street and a car heading straight for her.

"Honk!"

Time slowed for Fuuko as she turned. Her mind did a split second guess and knew that she could not stop nor run faster to avoid it. She braced her body and closed her eyes at the very last second for the impact.

Something did hit her. In that split second, her senses were sent rearing for the pain. All she could hear were honking, the vehicle screeching and shattering of a windshield before she lost consciousness.


	6. Yomi

Title: French Braid, part VI (Yomi)

Characters: You guess

Rating: T

Warning: This fic has NOT been beta read because this is a fun fic to write (and therefore not serious), so prepare for some serious grammar, syntax, mechanical, and probably spelling pains.

Time: Indeterminate

AN: The literal translation of Yomi is "yellow spring." In Asian legend, the yellow spring is the path that all souls must wander before they rise to nirvana or the eighteen levels of hell. It's somewhat like purgatory but not at the same time. Oh. Looking for a Beta who has time.

Summary: So Fuuko finally learned how to french braid...but the incident started an all out war between her and Mikagami...And something strange happened.

--

_Fuuko's head felt awfully hazy, like she was in middle of a nuclear fall out. She half wondered if this was heaven, purgatory or hell. She maybe in heaven because she always did her chores, went to school regularly, and believed to possess an unrivalled belief in honor. She might be in purgatory because of all her fights and not to mention the world was gray like a black and white film. She could be in hell because Mi-chan should have cursed her there ten-times over already like she did to him._

_"Silly, I wouldn't do that," came the only voice that could fry the girl's calm._

_"Mi-chan," Fuuko growled without turning. "What are you doing here?"_

_She could feel the shrug that accompanied the words. "I've always been here. Why are you here?"_

_"I asked you a question." Fuuko felt her fist tighten involuntarily. So typical of him to dance around her questions. She whipped around, only to see something that made her gasp._

_The ever so fastidious Mikagami Tokiya was in a white blood-soaked white sack gown. He looked so slender, as if he had been starved for days._

_Fuuko rushed over to him. It was not the first time for her to see him so injured, but the panic was still there. "Mi-chan! What happened? Stay here. I'll go get Yanagi." _

_Before Fuuko could leave though, a hand grabbed onto her wrist, keeping her back. "No. You mustn't. You'll get lost and never return!"_

_"But..." Fuuko tried to struggle, but when she could finally focus on a face, she saw Yanagi's face. Fuuko felt the a chill down her back as the image became clearer and clearer, reveling a waterfall of the palest hair and delicate features._

_"Mifuyu?" Fuuko managed to croak._

_Mifuyu Mikagami, the sister that Tokiya rarely spoke of, was in front of Fuuko in the flesh. The blood splatters were fashionable designs on the loose gown that hugged the figure. The elder Mikagami did resembled much of Yanagi on the facial features, only that this girl Mikagami carried a surreal sense of cool grace and elegance. And unlike Tokiya, Mifuyu seemed to lack all the spite and edges that characterized the younger brother._

_"You're...more beautiful than I imagined," Fuuko blurted shamelessly as she stared at the woman. While Yanagi was quite pretty in a cute way, Mifuyu had a maturity to her that Yanagi could never hope to match._

_Mifuyu's lips blossomed into a faint smile, making anyone's heart flutter in anticipation._

_Fuuko was beginning to understand why Tokiya had obsessed over his sister. Anyone would had obsessed over her._

_"Thank you, Kirisawa-san," said Mifuyu in that bell-like voice._

_That response puzzled Fuuko. "Why are you so formal?"_

_"Force of habit," Mifuyu said with that same faint smile. "My mother came from an utmost traditional family. So much that even our grandfather found her rigid." Mifuyu's expression turned mysterious. "You probably found this out from Tokiya, no?"_

_The mere mention made Fuuko upturn her head in annoyance. "Do we have to talk about that jerk now?"_

_"I'm still curious," Mifuyu reminded, exhibiting that relentless persistence that characterized a Mikagami._

_Fuuko pouted as pale blue eyes bore down on her. If there was one thing that the two siblings had in common, it was their cool penetrating gazes. "No. Mi-chan doesn't talk about himself a lot even after all we've gone through. I have to sneak into the teacher's file room and look at his school files to even get his birthday. Did you know that he sucked at dodge ball? Did you know he how mean his pranks are? Did you know that he got Recca and Domon dancing Yatta in their underwear? He's such a jerk!"_

_Mifuyu chuckled. "I would say that he actually like you guys to do such a mild thing."_

_Fuuko just looked at the woman as if she was crazy. "Mild?"_

_"Tokiya has a penchant for the extreme, even as a child," Mifuyu explained. "I recall a high school bully who tried to pick on him back in elementary school. Well, the bully tried to take Tokiya's money on Tokiya's first day at the new school..."_

_"And Tokiya beat the bloody shit out of him?" Fuuko continued for Mifuyu. Mi-chan never seemed like the type to be manhandled._

_Mifuyu shook her head. "No. Tokiya was beaten up and got his money taken. What did you expect? He was less than half the size of the bully. _

_"Oh." Fuuko felt disappointed. _

_Mifuyu continued. "Unfortunately for the bully, Tokiya reported to the police, the parents and to the high school. Tokiya managed to have the bully expelled from the high school with two choices: military boot camp or jail. Of course, the bully chose boot camp and was never heard from again. Tokiya real revenge almost always manages to be complete." Mifuyu's look turned thoughtful, almost sad. "Tokiya is an angel to his family and even pretends to be an ignorant fool to enhance the effect. But he inherited extreme intelligence from our mother, and knows exactly how to be a demon. If he wants to break something, he would likely break exactly where it would hurt the most, not fiddle with childish pranks."_

_They came to an uncomfortable pause before Mifuyu spoke. "Still, I believe that he has soften since then, and no longer see the world in only black and white. I believe he owes that to you specifically."_

_"Me?"_

_"Tokiya took after our mother in that he allows no mistakes. Yet he made that exception for you. So why don't you ask him if he actually likes you or not. I'll bet all of our fortunes that he does like you. It's just difficult for him to express."_

_"Even if he does like me, we'll likely end up killing in each other," replied Fuuko, her mind already imagining the blunt objects she would throw at him._

_"That would be a waste of his effort to save you, right?"_

_That brought a frown to Fuuko's lips as she tried to recall her last memories. "Err...Where are we exactly?" _

_"We're in Yomi."_

_Fuuko blinked as the words rang in her head. "I'm dead!?" Fuuko squeaked pitifully._

_There was a mellifluous laughter. "No, silly. You're just asleep so you're a little more attended to the spirit world than usual. That's all."_

_"So I'm just dreaming?" Fuuko offered dubiously._

_"Maybe."_

_"Maybe!? That doesn't comfort me!"_

_"Haha," the laughter was light like a wind chime. "Sorry. I couldn't resist teasing. Alright. I'll tell you the truth. You are going to live, plain and simple. That car didn't hit you, but you did smack into a light pole, head on, at full speed. So I imagine that you'll be dizzy for a while."_

_Fuuko frowned. She really did not need to know about the light pole part. "Okay. That is a relief. I mean, living. So why are you here?"_

_At that, Mifuyu smiled sadly. "Because, I'm waiting for someone to come home soon."_

_Now Fuuko was getting slightly creeped out. Still, she pressed on, "Who?"_

_Mifuyu never said anything._

--

"Fuuko, baby?" called a familiar voice, dragging the dazed girl back into reality.

Taking a deep breath, Fuuko finally opened her eyes to see the bleached white sheets of a hospital bed, a muscular nurse checking her IV's, and the worried expression of her mother.

"Mum?" Fuuko managed to whisper only to notice that her lips felt swollen. Her eyes rolled around, looking for some type of reflective surface only to see her normally generous lips puffed up nearly twice the size. Upon closer inspection, she noticed a brilliantly clear mark down her face of where she smacked into a pole, just like her dream had described. A brace at her neck forbid any movements. "Is that you?"

"Oh, thank goodness!" Mama Kirisawa cried as she leaned forward to give her daughter a crushing hug. "I was so worried!"

Fuuko herself was hardly worried. She had participated in fights resulting in worse than a simple concussion. Still, the frantic look on her mother's face made Fuuko felt really guilty. She was the type of daughter who wished not to worry her parents. "What happened?"

"Well...you ran into a pole! The emergency workers said that you were running so fast that it gave you a concussion. They were so surprised that you didn't herniated one of discs in your neck!"

_Probably because of all those fights back in middle school,_ Fuuko thought to herself. During those interminable three years, her body was probably used to the abuse, particular to the head and neck. Then there was the disastrous friendship with that idiot Recca, Domon and Yanagi and...

"Where is Mi-chan?" Fuuko croaked. It felt unnatural to think of him last, considering that he possessed every ounce of her thoughts for the past week.

"Who?"

"Mikagami Tokiya, the girly man," said Fuuko exasperatedly. Seriously. Mi-chan looked shocking enough with that ghoulish white skin and hair that it should be obvious as to whom she was referring to.

Mama Kirisawa still looked a little confused.

"I was chasing after someone," said Fuuko. "He should be about this tall," she gestured with a hand. "With this long of white hair," another gesture of the hand to the waist. "And a scowl like this," Fuuko frowned deeply in attempt to imitate the man.

Mama Kirisawa blinked then became quiet.

Fuuko was getting irrationally irritated. "Where is he?"

Mama Kirisawa had no answer.

"Did he just ditch me?" Fuuko felt her heart skip a beat.

Still no answer.

"Did he at least help me here?" A feeling of panic stirred in her stomach.

Mama looked away.

By now Fuuko was becoming very paranoid. "Is he okay?"

"They tell me that you were in middle of the traffic when a young man jumped out and pushed you out of the way. But that put him in the way of a speeding car."

Fuuko felt her heart begin to pound. She was not going to like what Mama had to say.

"He was hit by the car," Mama continued softly. "He was thrown into the windshield, cracked it and flew up before coming back down. They tell me that he managed to call an ambulance and me."

Fuuko gripped her bed sheets. Why was Mama refusing to look at her?

There was a sigh and a shake. "I've never heard such a coldly demanding tone that I thought it was just a joke...until I got a call from the emergency operator. By the time I got there, I saw the paramedics taking him away with a sheet over his face." Mama finally returned Fuuko's gaze, tears flowing down the side of her face.

"They say he won't live to next week. And even if he did, he would not ever walk again."

--

Fuuko stilled her heart as she stood outside the Intensive Care Unit with a name hastily scribbled at the end of a clipboard.

"Mikagami."

What should she say to him? Would he even be conscious? It was alright midnight. Should she even knock? Should she apologize? What could she say to a dying person?

Dying...

Fuuko felt her legs weaken and her body shake. She was no stranger to death. Who would be after her own experiences? But death of a close friend? One that was her fault? Would he blame her? Would he ever forgive her? Would he hate her? Or would he not speak to her at all?

And to think all this could be traced back to something as innocent as braiding hair.

Fuuko suppressed a shiver. She still remembered his airy touch, daft and precise. His expression so severe, and so sad when unguarded. And that strange dream, where Mifuyu asked her about asking that one question...

Still, she mustered up her courage. If the situation was as terrible as Mama had described, then she must take this chance and right things between them. With a gentle click of the door, she cracked the door open.

Apparently, someone was already visiting and chatting.

--

Tsukino drew long on her cigarette as she sat crossed legged next to Tokiya sick bed.

In all honesty, Tokiya did not look terrible. He had a couple of cuts on the face, a few bruises on his limbs, and obvious bandages on his mid section and over his eyes.

Tsukino herself did not know what to think of her present predicament. She was actually quite surprised to get a phone call from the hospital. Tokiya could take care of himself, or else the whole apartment wouldn't be so shaken when he was around.

_So he is mortal,_ thought Tsukino as she exhaled. It did not even seem possible for him to be hurt, considering that he was always so immaculately dressed and giving off death glares.

Apparently, he wasn't as unconscious as she first thought.

"You know I hate cigarette smoke," he said suddenly.

Tsukino scoffed and blew smoke to the side to hide her surprise. If Mika-chan could play it cool, then so could she. "Whatever. Your guardian told me to watch you, not go cold turkey." She drew another drag and deliberately blew into his face.

Tokiya, however, had something else on his mind. "My guardian? Dr. Hashiba? Was here?" He sounded like he did not quite believe it.

"Yep. Sew you up and everything," said Tsukino. She had to withstand a long technical lecture before she was allowed in the intensive care unit. "Says that you're lucky to be alive. Plus, the Doc even made sure that the school kept shut about it, saying that you need the quiet and rest, if you're to live through this."

He seemed fairly ambivalent about it. "Expected."

"Death wish, Tokiya?" Tsukino's tone was dry. She had seen so many of her own colleagues who wished to die due to shame of their profession. Tsukino did not care though. She was alive, and for that, she was glad. The fools are those value not their own lives.

"No. Lecture," He was irritated at the prospect.

That Tsukino did not expect. "What? For saving your girlfriend?"

"For not avoiding a scene. Dr. Hashiba has high expectations...some unrealistic."

Tsukino shuddered to think what Tokiya would consider as 'unrealistic' expectations. After all, Tokiya was Mr. Perfect. He lived on his own, had perfect marks at school, born handsome, and not to mention that he remained unspoiled despite the massive fortune left to him.

Tokiya's mind was on the other topic "**She** is alright?"

With that response, Tsukino's thoughts turn wicked. Where else better to confess eternal love than a hospital? "So you not denying that you're a couple?" she implied something with her phrasing.

"Answer the question," Tokiya pressed in his usual commanding tone.

"She's fine. Your doc looked at her too, says that she'll make a full recovery, live a disgustingly long life, and should probably dye that horrible color back."

"I see."

"What? No second opinions? You've never been so trusting."

"Dr. Hashiba has never been wrong and never will be. It's...disturbing when you think about it." He had a strange look about him. "I'm glad she is alright."

"You really do care about her, don't you?" asked Tsukino, observing him. "I can tell because you actually saved her from getting hit by the car, despite your less than altruistic personality and mild tolerance to her antics."

"Toleration is a virtue."

"You nearly neutered Mister Mob Boss for just looking at you," Tsukino pointed out. Tsukino finally snubbed out her cigarette on the counter, leaving a darken char spot. "Your level of tolerations is deplorable. If it was just some ordinary passer by, you probably would let them get hit and don't give a flying shyt about. From the way I see it, Mika-chan, you like her. There is no use trying to act no nonchalant."

Tokiya did not answer for a long time. But when he spoke, he asked a question instead.

"How much do you miss your family?"

"Now Mika-chan..."

"Don't you wish you still can go home to your parents? To have siblings to fight with?"

"Not everyone can have that," said Tsukino as she fished out a silver canteen and drank deeply. It always unsettled her when Tokiya asked such difficult question and she could only drink before she can respond. "I can wish forever that my parents didn't get shot, that my siblings didn't get run over. I can wish that I don't have to work at the Penthouse, but not everyone is so lucky."

Tokiya sighed. It did not seem Tsukino understood what he meant. "When either you or I are gone, our friends will mourn, but in time, they will forget. Family is different. Fuuko is a daughter, sister, and cousin to many people. They will not forget."

Now Tsukino was annoyed. "So you're saying that her life is more important because she has more family members? And we are not important because we're orphans?"

Tokiya shook his head sagaciously. "You and I know keenly what it is like to lose a family, the impossibility to forget. The rage against them for the fact that they left you behind. Do you wish others to know that fury?"

By now, Tsukino was slightly pink from the alcohol, but still frowning. Tokiya always made too much sense. "You certainly put an ugly face to something as scared as life and death."

"Fuuko is only a friend. She'll forget, in time."

"You say it as if you expect to die," Tsukino half joked.

Tokiya kept silent for another long moment before saying, "I'm tired, Tsukino."

Tsukino shook her head and stood up. "Then I'll tuck you in." She leaned over to give him a kiss on the forehead only to snap back as if burned.

She wasted no time to call the nurse while the extra pair of eyes and ears slipped out of range.

--


End file.
